Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne-Chapter 77: Kiran City

The gate to Kiran City wasn’t much to look at. Weathered wood, patched planks, and a faded crest so worn you could barely make out the symbols. Two guards leaned on their spears, watching the approaching figures with a blend of boredom and caution. A small girl cloaked in traveler’s garb, and a woman whose beauty was far too pristine for a place like this.

"Identification?" one of the guards asked, his lip curling.

Veynessa stepped forward without a word and slipped a small pouch into his hand. The faint clink of coins inside was barely audible, but it froze the man mid-motion. He looked at her, then the pouch, then back again—as if suddenly forgetting he’d even asked a question. The tension drained from his face, replaced by a calculated indifference. He stepped aside without a word, pretending not to see them as Veynessa and Sylphia passed through the gate.

"Was that... safe?" Sylphia asked softly, glancing over her shoulder. "He just let us through. Just like that."

"Safe?" Veynessa echoed, not turning her head. "This is the real world. Things don’t work here like they do in the palace. Sometimes it’s better to know which guard will take a bribe than which one pretends to be righteous. People survive however they can—and let others survive, if there’s something in it for them."

She lowered her voice. "We may be royalty, but we don’t have the numbers, power, or reach to make every city fair and clean. This is one of those places where survival has its own rules. Not pretty. But true."

Kiran greeted them with dust and exhaustion. The streets were crowded, not with life, but with its residue—like the city was slowly rotting under the weight of its own existence. The air was thick with sweat, smoke, and the stench of rotting fish someone was trying to sell from a wobbly stall. Sylphia wrinkled her nose and raised her sleeve to cover it, eyebrows furrowed. She was used to clean gardens and polished palace floors. This was her first real glimpse into the world most mortals knew.

Veynessa led her through winding alleys, each one with its own scent and grime. Sylphia drank it all in with wide eyes—crumbling plaster on the houses, windows hidden behind dirty cloths, gutters filled with murky water. There were no marble tiles here, no fragrant herbs. Only the stink of burnt oil, iron, and sweat.

Children ran barefoot over cracked stones. One girl dragged a headless rag doll behind her. An old man sat on a crate, sharpening a knife and staring into nothing, as if the day had stopped mattering a long time ago. On a street corner, a woman in a grimy apron dumped a bucket of foul, sticky water. Someone argued loudly over the price of wilted greens. And in the shadows, a dog gnawed on something Sylphia chose not to identify.

She stuck close to her mother, and slowly it dawned on her: this wasn’t an exception. This was the norm. This was the world these people lived in. Kids her age—born without names, palaces, or protection. Her gaze locked onto a boy dragging a bucket twice his size, determination etched on his dirt-streaked face. She could’ve been one of them. If fate had shifted ever so slightly. If Qi hadn’t ignited in her veins. If... She swallowed hard. There were no "ifs." There was only what was. And the slow, shattering realization that her life so far had been a bubble—and now, it was starting to burst.

They finally reached an inn called "The Six Shadows." It looked as if it had been cobbled together from the leftovers of better times—crooked walls, sagging roof, and doors that squeaked with every shift. Inside, it was dark and musty, the air heavy with the scent of ale, dust, wood, and something sour.

The innkeeper, a man with a barrel for a belly and a gaze as tired as morning fog, glanced at them indifferently, asking no questions.

"A room for a few days. One bed is fine," Veynessa said, tossing a pouch onto the counter.

The man blinked, caught off guard. For a brief moment, her flawless, serene face seemed utterly out of place here—as if plucked from another world. Then his expression hardened. Anyone that looked like her and walked around freely... had to be dangerous. His eyes flicked to Sylphia, narrowed, then he silently handed them a key.

"Keep the kid close," he muttered. "Too many kids gone missing lately."

Veynessa said nothing. She nodded once and turned toward the stairs. Sylphia hurried after her, stealing one last glance at the innkeeper, his warning etched in her mind.

Their room lay at the end of a narrow hallway. Inside, the smell of old wood and faint herbs tried to mask the damp. One bed, a small table, and a window overlooking the street. Simple.

"It’s getting dark," Sylphia said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "After all that walking... I think I’m tired."

Veynessa nodded and reached into her spatial ring. A small, rune-etched artifact appeared in her hand—a stone seal glowing faintly. She whispered a short incantation, and a warm light wrapped around Sylphia’s body. In an instant, the grime and sweat vanished, as if she’d bathed in a clean stream.

"What kind of magic is that?!" Sylphia gasped, eyes wide.

"Not magic. Just an enchanted cleansing artifact. Useful on the road when there’s no time or water," Veynessa replied, repeating the ritual on herself.

The warm glow lit the room briefly before fading into the shadows.

"We’ll stay here for a few days," she added calmly.

Sylphia shot her a sideways glance, clearly wanting to ask "Why?" but said nothing. Veynessa pulled out a soft set of nightclothes and handed them over.

"Get changed and rest," she said gently.

The girl obeyed, slipping into the clothes and under the covers—then immediately grimaced at the lumpy mattress.

"This bed is... awful," she grumbled, cheek pressed into the pillow.

Veynessa smiled faintly, changed, dimmed the artifact, and lay down beside her. Sylphia nestled into her mother’s chest without a word, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her body relaxed, breath slowed—and moments later, she was asleep.

Morning sunlight crept through their dirty window. The streets were alive again—vendors shouting, kids darting between stalls, the scent of fresh bread mingling with dust.

Sylphia drifted near a stand selling dried fruits while Veynessa haggled with a merchant. Then, out of nowhere, something smacked her cheek. Lightly, but enough to surprise her. She winced, rubbing the spot.

"Hey! Sorry!" a voice called. A boy a year older, messy-haired and holding a ball under one arm, ran over. "Those idiots don’t watch where they kick..." He threw a glare toward a group of kids a few steps away.

He froze mid-sentence, staring at her. Sylphia raised an eyebrow.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, puzzled.

"What?! No, no!" the boy stammered, blushing hard. "You look fine! Totally fine!"

As if remembering his purpose, he scooped up the ball and looked at her eagerly.

"Wanna play with us? It’ll be fun!"

"I... I’m here with my mom..." she began, turning to point her out—but Veynessa was nowhere in sight.

Sylphia blinked.

She sighed internally. Maybe this was her mother’s way of saying she should have some fun. She nodded.

The boy lit up like he’d won a treasure.

"Really?! Awesome! I’m Teren! And you?"

"Sylphia," she replied, a bit unsure.

"Sylphia... Sylphia..." he repeated under his breath, like he was engraving it in his memory. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the others.

"Hey, guys, we got someone new! This is Sylphia!"

The other boys froze as if someone hit pause. Their eyes widened in sync. One fixed his hair instinctively. Two exchanged glances. Another stared like she’d stepped out of a storybook.

The girls reacted differently. One crossed her arms with clear dislike. Another looked away, pretending not to care. But some gazes shimmered with awe, like she’d descended from the pages of a legend.

"Seriously, you brought a princess?" one of the boys joked.

"Better with her than without," Teren replied, honest and cheerful.

They reached a clearing between houses where makeshift goals were marked by sacks and stones.

Sylphia hesitated.

The ball rolled toward her. She raised her foot—too late. She tripped over herself and hit the ground with a dull thud. Silence. Then laughter burst out. One kid clapped, another pointed, and someone jumped with glee.

Flushed and dusty, Sylphia pushed herself up.

"Wow, never played before?" someone called.

Teren ran over, offering his hand with a warm grin.

"Don’t worry. You’ll get it fast."

She took his hand, dusted off, and tried again. Missed. Then again—it bounced off her knee and flew the wrong way. Laughter again, not cruel, but amused.

Each time, Teren helped her up, encouraged her, tried to distract the others. When she missed again, he threw up his arms dramatically and shouted, "It was the wind!"

With every failed attempt, something stirred inside her. She clenched her fists... then slowly relaxed as a familiar warmth surged through her. Qi. Subtle. Natural. Like breath, like instinct.

The ball came again. This time, she didn’t hesitate. Her feet moved with unexpected grace. She dodged one boy, then the next, as if she knew their every move. She caught the ball with her knee, spun, and launched it—clean, precise. It tore into the makeshift net.

"What the...?!"

"She’s amazing!" a girl squealed.

Teren bolted toward her, eyes lit with joy. He grabbed her hands, swinging them in celebration.

"That was awesome! You’re amazing!"

Sylphia stared, stunned. She wasn’t used to reactions like this.

Then, realizing what he was doing, Teren dropped her hands and stepped back, red-faced.

"Alright, let’s keep playing!" he said quickly, turning away.

The game picked up again with renewed energy. Sylphia moved freely, her motions instinctive, confident. Hair streaming, smile wide—she looked made for this.

Far above, on a rooftop, Veynessa sat cross-legged, arms wrapped around her knees. Her gaze never left the laughing girl below, chasing the ball and shouting with joy. She didn’t blink, afraid to miss a second. Her lips curled faintly, fingers tightening around her knees. The wind stirred her loose strands of hair, but she sat still, drinking in the moment like she never wanted it to end.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is fr𝒆e(w)𝒆bnovel